Words to Me
by Miss Pataki
Summary: " 'If not today,' she said, 'then tell me when.' I think I tried to say I'm sorry, then she said these words of reverance: 'Please don't leave me hanging on and on.' "


"Words to Me" by Miss Pataki

Another song fic based on a Sugar Ray song

A/N: Okay, remember my "Comforting Lie" fic and how it was Helga's reaction to her confession?  Well, this is Arnold's feelings.  So, um, enjoy!  And as always, I'd really like to hear your opinion about my second movie story.  I'm almost half-way finished with it! J

Disclaimer:  I do not own Hey Arnold! or this song or Sugar Ray.  Ha, you can't sue me!  At least, I don't think you can…

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          His eyes met hers as they passed each other on the street.  He thought he saw the ghost of a fleeting smile, but he couldn't be sure.  The tiny upturning of her lips dropped and she gazed into him, a sadness in her eyes he had never seen before.  He saw the earnestness she felt, the pain tweaking her heart and the tear-infused shine that begged, "Look my way!"  He couldn't bring himself to speak.

          It wasn't her.  It was him.  Ever since that night, that night when they stood perilously perched atop Future Tech Industries, his vocal cords had willed him not to say a word to her.  It was the feeling of tightness in his chest that controlled them.  The mere sight of her left him speechless, tongue-tied like a goofy teenager instead of the astute fourth grader that he was.

_She sings these words to me.  She sings these words to me.  I look at you and try to do the best I can.  But sometimes, it ain't that easy._

          He loved her.  He, Arnold, had fallen in love without realizing it with her, Helga G. Pataki.  She made his legs rubber, made him missed fly-balls and unknowingly bean his teammates, made his dreams restless and his sleep nearly non-existent.   And all the while, he couldn't admit it to himself.  He wouldn't believe that he had really gone and fallen for someone so…un-Lila like at the tender age of nine.  He couldn't deny his feelings for her easily.

          Her piercing and crying eyes caught his.  They followed him in the park and at Gerald field.  They pleaded with him, "I know you can't admit it now.  But when can you?  Will you?"  She saw.  She saw how much he loved her.  And yet, still she cried.  He tried to remember how many times his own eyes had tried to engage with hers and apologize.  Hundreds?  Thousands?  More than he could count.  Each time he almost made it and then backed off, he could feel her die a little more.  As childish as it sounded, he wondered if the hope that he might admit his feelings was what kept her hanging on.

_If not today, she said, then tell me when.  I think I tried to say I'm sorry.  Then she said these words of reverence: Please don't leave me hanging on and on._

          Arnold slowly walked home from the park, sighing to himself.  If he knew he couldn't admit that he loved her, wasn't that a form of admitting it? he wondered.  He passed Slausen's.  He was getting closer.  He walked a little farther, passing a two-story blue house sandwiched between two larger ones.  He stopped and gazed wistfully up at the light on in the second story window.  She was still up.  He wished he could admit it, wished he could take her hand and fly away from the doubts of the world.

_I see the light in your window.  Look at the sky and we can go away._

          He closed his eyes and smiled.

          "Ya think you could move it, football head?"

          Arnold awoke from his dream and turned to face Helga.  She stood in front of him, two heavy suitcases in her hands and a trademark scowl on her face.  Her dying blue eyes still gazed into him.  "Yeah, sorry, Helga," he mumbled, getting out of her way.  She shuffled over to the blue car parked in front and popped the trunk.

          "Going somewhere?" he asked.

          "As a matter of fact I am," she replied, stuffing the suitcases in.  "We're gonna go visit Olga at Bennington.  It figures.  If I'm not stuck here, actual feeling like the dopey chicks in that Nelly video, I'm freezing my butt off in Alaska."

          "At least you'll be cool," he told her, chuckling a little.

          "Yeah, whatever, Arnoldo.  See ya in a week," she told him, heading back into the house.

          Arnold stood for a moment before continuing home.  All the way there, he couldn't help daydreaming.  He dreamed he was piloting a plane, just like his parents.  Helga sat in back of him, a rare gem of a smile on her face.  They flew wherever the wind took them.

_Get up!  Get up! Get up and I'm gonna pick you up and take you where I wanna. Get up!  Get up! Get up and I'm gonna pick you up and take you where I wanna._

          All night long, she plagued him.  He replayed that night over and over in his head.  The words were so frenetic when they first graced his ears.  Would she think the same if he said words not to different to her?  He shook the idea from his head.  But he could not shake her lips forming the three little words in his mind.

          "I love you…"

_La, la, la, la, la, la.  She sings these words to me.  She sings these words to me._

          The next day, Arnold and Gerald sat on his stoop, the blinding hot summer sun beating down on them.  They thoughtfully enjoyed their Popsicles in silence, watching Sid and Harold pull open a fire hydrant, dousing Lila and Rhonda in cool water.   Arnold thought he saw Helga there too, but his mind was playing tricks on him.  After a few moments, Gerald spoke.

          "Okay, now it's bugging me.  What's up?"

          "Nothing is up.  It's just weird with Helga gone and all."

_The summer sun is warm and you are everywhere.  But sometimes, it ain't that easy._

          "Tell me about it!  Isn't it great?" Gerald raved.  "Just think- seven days without her making fun of us."

          "Yeah, seven days…" Arnold murmured.  He opened his mouth to say something to Gerald but shut it.  Darn, he had almost admitted it.  He was so close.  He whispered a silent apology to Helga, wherever she was.  He knew it wouldn't reach her, but it made him feel better.  _It's hard to believe how much everything changed that night, he thought.  __What if I do admit how I feel to her and things don't turn out the way I expected?_

_I count the days til I see you again.  You know I tried and I am sorry.  One night can make a difference.  Please don't leave me hanging on and on._

          Later that day, at sunset he began his usual walk to the park to observe the sky change colors.  He passed the now empty Pataki house, stopping for a brief moment.  The light was still on in Helga's room.  _She must have forgotten to turn it off, he thought.  __She wouldn't mind if I did it for her, would she?_

_I see the light in your window.  Look at the sky and we can go away._

          Arnold figured she wouldn't, so he ducked into the alley way between her house and the next one.  How was he going to get up there?  He looked around and noticed the gutter pipe along the side of the house.

          "That's crazy," he said aloud.  He started to walk away and turned back.  "Well, I guess I'm crazy too, so what's the harm in doing it?"  Carefully, he grabbed a hold of the pipe and began climbing up the wall, muttering, "What have I gotten myself into this time?"

_Get up!  Get up! Get up and I'm gonna pick you up and take you where I wanna.  Get up! Get up! Get up and I'm gonna pick you up and take you where I wanna._

          He reached the second floor and slipped in through her window, landing on her pink-sheeted bed.  He was about to hit the light switch by her door when he noticed an open pink book on the bed.  He read the words written in it aloud.

          "Everyday of every week I write the name I dare not speak; the boy with the cornflower hair, my love and my despair…"

_La, la, la, la, la, la.  She sings these words to me.  She sings these words to me._

          "This must be one of those poems she talked about," he mumbled, stating the obvious.  Part of him was thinking she was a weird obsessive, but the other half felt happy.  Heck, he felt better than happy.  He felt reaffirmed that she loved him and excited that he'd have something positive to dwell on while she was gone.  He felt his heart soar.

_And I don't mind the waiting when she sings these words to me.  I see the light in your window.  Look at the sky and we can go.  Look at the sky and we can go away._

          Arnold knew he should feel guilty, but he was interested in what else she had written about him.  He glanced down at his watch.  He had a few minutes to spare, so he sat down on the bed and began to read.  She called him every name he could imagine from "sultry pre-teen" to "football-headed love god."  It was a bit funny, he had to admit, but it was also sweet.  He had never been loved this much by anyone.  It filled him with a deep sense of pride, swelling his chest.

_She says these words.  She says these words.  La, la, la, la, la, la.  She says these words._

          Finally, he reached the last page with writing on it.  Like the first poem, he read this one aloud.

          "Sometimes my heart grows wings and takes to flight.  Love, come away with me tonight."  That was it.  It was so pure and simple, and yet he felt like he could actually reach her through it.  Maybe he was reading too much into it, but he thought that perhaps her feelings sprouted from a much deeper plot than he imagined.  He guessed this was the most recent poem.  It was more mature than her others.  Some of them were just silly, but this was so plain and profound.

          "Can I?" he asked, spilling simple yet meaningful words without giving them a second thought.

_"Come away with me tonight"- she says these words.  La, la, la, la, la, la.  She says these words.  Come away with me tonight._

          He clamped a hand over his mouth.  What had he just said?  What HAD he just said!?  Had he just said something really close to admitting his feelings?  He lay back on the bed to think, secretly feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest.

_Get up!  Get up!  Get up and I'm gonna pick you up and take you where I wanna.  Get up!  Get up!  Get up! Yeah…_

          As a matter of fact, a huge weight HAD been lifted from his chest.  He smiled a satisfied smile, resting his hands behind his head.

          "I guess…I guess I do love Helga," he said.  He frowned.  "I don't guess.  I know.  I love Helga Pataki," he said louder.  "I love Helga Pataki!" he yelled out the window, feeling just the slightest bit sheepish.  

_Get up!  Get up! Get up and I'm gonna pick you up and take you where I wanna.  Get up!  Get up! Get up!_

          Arnold looked at his watch, noting that it was about time for him to head home.  He grabbed the pink book and turned out the light before making his way down the pipe.  Even though it was a little less than a week til he saw her again, he didn't mind.  He couldn't be happier.  He had finally admitted it.  Confession was medicine for the soul, he noted.  He made his way down the street towards the boarding house, humming to himself.  He wasn't sure how he was going to admit his feelings to Helga, but it didn't matter.  He had his words to keep him company and reassure him that night.  And that was good enough for him.

_And I don't mind the waiting when she sings these words to me.  La, la, la, la, la, la.  Come away with me tonight.  La, la, la, la, la, la…_


End file.
